


I Dare You To Love Me

by oOMaryAliceOo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Floriography, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Language of Flowers, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Pansy Parkinson, My First Fanfic, Not Epilogue Compliant, Pansmione - Freeform, Shy!Pansy, Shyness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOMaryAliceOo/pseuds/oOMaryAliceOo
Summary: Back for her 8th year at Hogwarts, Hermione starts to receive beautiful bouquets of flowers. Who could they be from? And why is Pansy Parkinson behaving so unlike her past self?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	I Dare You To Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is it. My first ever real fanfic.
> 
> I have to say, these past few weeks I have had the growing love for Pansmione in me.
> 
> I have also always wanted to create something linked to Floriography - the language of flowers.
> 
> This particular fanfic came to be for a writing challenge in a Facebook group I am part of, and therefore, I will probably rework it because I feel like I had to rush it a bit at the end. 
> 
> Nontheless I really hope you enjoy this story and the idea behind it. 
> 
> Please keep in mind, that English is not my native language and I also didn't have a beta for this.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------

Back for her 8th year at Hogwarts, Hermione Jean Granger swore to herself to solely focus on her studies and not let feelings get in the way ever again.  
Not after she, once again, got her heart broken by one Ronald Bilius Weasley. The utter prat.

Even after he left Harry and her in the middle of the woods, she still trusted him to not hurt her again. How wrong and, for the better word of it, stupid she had been.  
All it had taken was for countless ditzy models to throw themselves at the “war hero”, and suddenly Ron felt like “Maybe they were not made for each other after all.”  
He even made it seem like their passionate kiss in the Chamber of Secrets had been nothing more but the rush of adrenaline.

Fine. The newly appointed Headgirl didn’t need any romantic liaison anyway. At least she constantly tried to convince herself of that.

Her resolve started to crumble, when she one day came back to her personal dorms, to find a vase with a beautiful bouquet of flowers standing on her desk.

Mesmerized by the different shades of her favourite colour, purple, and white, the Gryffindor almost failed to notice the ebony coloured card standing at the base of the vase.

Picking it up, she hoped to find who sent her this beautiful arrangement of flowers. All that it said though, in a beautifully curved script nonetheless, were the following words:

_Purple Hyacinths - Please Forgive Me  
Lavender Heather - I Admire You  
White Tulips - I Am Sorry_

Hermione’s brows furrowed in confusion. Whoever sent her this, nevermind how they managed to get it delivered to her private quarters, seemed to feel the need to apologize to her. Apologize for what though?

There was no way that this thoughtful arrangement could be from Ronald. With his emotional range of a teaspoon, all he managed to think about was what to have for “second breakfast”. And even if he would think about anything else, there was no way he could have managed to get the flowers onto her desk. Not from the same building, and definitely not from wherever the auror training was taking place, that Harry and him were now partaking in.

So who could this mystery person be? And why did they not just come forth and apologize to her in person? These were the thoughts that kept her awake until the early hours of morning.

After waking up from her dreamless slumber, all it took for the auburn-haired woman to have the wheels in her head turn again, was to lay eyes on the beautiful flowers.

They instantly brought a smile to her face, which then turned into a frown.  
“Who could have sent me these?” the Gryffindor said to no one, but herself.  
Getting ready with no other thoughts occupying her mind, Hermione made her way downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Taking her usual seat at the newly established 8th year table, her back always to the wall, she let her golden-brown eyes wander for a bit. What was she trying to find though? It’s not as if any physical trait would give the “Mystery Person” away now, or would it? Shaking her head, the Headgirl grabbed a slice of toast to have with her beans. Looking around, she then spotted her other breakfast staple at the far end of the table: orange juice.

She was about to get up and attempt to lean all the way over to grab the carafe, when a pale manicured hand offered it to her. Following the way from the hands up to the face of the person attached to them, Hermione stared into the eyes of none other than Pansy Parkinson.

The Slytherin had surprised everyone by voluntarily coming back to re-do her last year of education. And it seemed that something about her was different. As if she was a whole new person. Not only did she not throw any insults around, she also was rather civil to everyone, no matter the blood-status.

Mione didn’t know what to make of it, but decided to give the raven-haired girl the benefit of the doubt.

“Thank you, Pansy.”, the Gryffindor said after coming out of her stupor, and pouring herself the juice she craved so much.

“Y-you are welcome.”, came the mumbled, almost shy, reply.

Hermione couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the obnoxious, loud-mouthed, pug-faced girl. Not that she missed that side of the Slyhterin, but it almost felt like there really was a completely different person sitting across from her.

Physically, Pansy seemed to have grown into her formerly unattractive facial features. Her raven hair wasn’t cut into that harsh, straight bob anymore. Now it framed her face in soft waves that came down to her collar bones. Her figure was still slender as ever, but somehow had gained a bit of softness to it.

Those changes were not the only things noticed by Mione, who had definitely NOT eyed the pale woman more than deemed appropriate.

The Parkinson heiress also was way more soft-spoken than ever before, and she usually only replied when spoken to, as if she was afraid to say something wrong.

Hermione guessed that she just wanted to stay off the radar after the whole debacle that went down at the Battle of Hogwarts last May, when Pansy wanted to offer Harry to Voldemort.

It had been more than four months since then. And it hadn’t taken the Slytherin long to get in contact with ‘The Boy Who Lived’ to apologize not only for that, but all the bullying she’d partaken in during their school years. The auburn-haired Gryffindor had no idea what the exact words used for said apology were, but Harry had sworn that they were sincere as can be. And if her best friend attested to this, who was Hermione to not believe him and hold a further grudge?

So here she was, having breakfast, trying to find a way to start a first real conversation with the Slytherin girl.

“So, as you can probably tell, I really like orange juice. What is your prefered drink to accompany breakfast, Pansy?”, Hermione asked with a small smile gracing her lips.

As if she was a deer in the headlights, the raven-haired girl seemed to be taken off guard by being spoken to. “U-uhm…. I …. tea?”, she mumbled, before a blush started to spread all over her porcelain cheeks. All of a sudden she got up and left the table in a haste without saying another word.

“Oh, that went well.”, Mione said to herself. Was it so far-fetched that she would willingly talk to the other girl, or was there another reason that had Pansy so flustered?

Trying to concentrate on the upcoming classes, the muggleborn finished her meal reading some texts about a new type of hybrids that were crosses between magical and non-magical plants. The books were recommended to her by her good friend, and also returned Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom.

With classes keeping her busy, Hermione all but forgot the “Mystery Person”. That was, until she returned to her dorm. Not only did she find the flowers from the night before, but another arrangement was standing right next to them - this time mostly white, with dots of blue and yellow throughout.

The Golden Girl made her way to her desk, hoping to find yet again another card. And indeed there it was: the exact ebony card as the one she’d received the day before. The beautifully curved handwriting, that she assumed belonged to the sender, formed the following words:

_White Peonies - I Am Too Shy To Come Forward  
Gardenias - I Secretly Love You  
Cornflowers - Be Gentle With Me  
Honeysuckle - I Am Devoted To You_

What Hermione gathered from this was that someone not only wanted to apologize to her, but actually was her secret admirer. That sure was unexpected.

Who could it be though? Where should she start looking to solve this puzzle? The young woman was at a loss. While getting ready for bed, she had a hard time focusing on anything else. This sure was going to be another short night.

The last thing catching her eye were the beautiful flowers on her desk. A soft smile graced her lips, before sleep finally managed to overcome her.

Waking in the early hours of the next morning, Hermione decided there was no use in trying to fall asleep again. Instead, she got dressed and ready for the day. Making her way downstairs, she decided to take a walk on the school grounds. Fresh air probably would do her good, and maybe she would have an idea how to approach the whole secret admirer matter.

The dew covering the grass gave the morning air a fresh, but also earthy scent. It used to be one of Hermione’s favorite ones, and even part of what she smelled in the Amortentia in their 6th year potions class.

Back then she had only described it as “grass”, but it was so much more than that. It didn’t matter anymore though. Because Ron, who she believed this scent belonged to, was no more.

Shaking her head, as if the motion would clear her thoughts of her former boyfriend, the Headgirl made her way down to the Black Lake. All of a sudden, something to her left caught her eye:

She apparently wasn’t the only person awake at this hour. Approaching the figure sitting underneath an alder tree, she was surprised to learn that it was none other than Pansy Parkinson.

It seemed like the other girl hadn’t noticed her yet. Focused on a pad in her lap and a pencil in hand, it seemed like she was in the midst of sketching. Intrigued by this, Hermione carefully approached, not to startle the Slytherin.

Something must have given her away though, because all of a sudden the raven-haired girl looked up with an alarmed look on her face. She was about to start packing everything away, when Mione tried to keep her from it:

“No, please don’t leave! I am terribly sorry for bothering and scaring you. It wasn’t my intention to pry, but I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here.”

Halting her movements, it seemed like Pansy was in thought for a second before making up her mind and deciding to stay.

Shoulders tensed up and her hands grabbing onto her skirt like a lifeline, she didn’t say a word though.

Mione, being the optimist that she was, took that as an invitation to further approach the Slytherin.

“Once again: I am so sorry for intruding. Though I have to admit that I am quite happy to get the chance to talk to you alone.”

This made Pansy’s eyebrows furrow and with visible confusion on her face she, almost inaudibly stated: ”W-why would you be happy to talk to me? I have….. I have brought nothing but pain into your life. If anything, you should hate me, Hermione.”

“What did you just call me?” the Gryffindor asked full of surprise.

“Her….mione? It is your name after all, is it not? O-or should I address you in any other way? I-I get it, it’s not as if we were f-friends or anything.”, the Parkinson heiress started to nervously fumble with the pencil once again in her hand.

“Oh no! Hermione is completely fine, don’t worry. I have to admit, that I was taken aback. I have never heard you call me by my given name. I like it though.”

To further reassure the raven-haired girl, who seemed even paler than usual, Hermione sent a genuine smile her way.

“How about you and I just have a clean start?”, the Gryffindor girl asked before straightening her back and holding out her hand to the other young woman.

“Hello, I believe we haven’t met before: My name is Hermione Granger. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Seemingly unsure at first, the Slytherin took the offered hand in hers and gave it a soft squeeze, before slowly shaking it. “T-the pleasure is all mine. My Name is Pansy Penelope Parkinson, b-but Pansy is fine.”

At this, Hermione couldn’t help but smile softly. “It is great to finally meet you, Pansy. What are you up to so early in the morning? Did you have as hard of a time sleeping as me?”

“No, I ….well, actually I always get up this early to draw and sketch. I like the peace and quiet. It’s very… comforting.”

“Oh! Then don’t stop on my account. But if it’s alright with you, I would like to stay and keep you company. Would that be okay?”

A tentative nod of confirmation was all it took for Mione to transfigure one of her handkerchiefs into a blanket, on which she got comfortable before taking in her surroundings again.

Letting a comfortable silence surround them, Pansy finally seemed to relax enough to get back to the sketch she was in the midst of drawing when the other girl had approached her.

The Gryffindor let her gaze wander from the castle to her right, which was illuminated by the early rays of sunshine, to the Black Lake in front of her, its water covered by a layer of mist. At last, her eyes found their way to the pad in the delicate hands of the woman next to her. And all Hermione could do was take in a hitched breath of surprise.

This had Pansy look up from her work with questioning eyes.

“This is beautiful! Oh my gosh, where did you learn to draw like that?”, the muggleborn witch inquired.

Blush spread across the porcelain cheeks of her companion, as if the Slytherin had not expected that enthusiastic reaction.

“You are just saying this to be nice. I- I really am not that good.” came the mumbled reply from the raven-haired witch, who seemed to have lost all confidence in herself over the course of the past months.

“If there is one thing you should know about me”, Hermione exclaimed, “it’s that I value honesty above most other traits. I am always honest with everyone around me, not in a hurtful way though. But I do this, because I want everyone to have the chance to be the best version of themselves. So, when I say that this piece of art is beautiful, then it most definitely is.”, the auburn-haired witch finished her small monologue.

This brought the first genuine smile to Pansy’s face, that the Headgirl had ever seen. The happiness the other woman was radiating was almost blinding.

“Then….thank you. I taught myself. It was a-always my way to escape from the world around me. My one sanctuary, where I could be at peace with myself despite the chaos surrounding me.”, the Parkinson girl replied, visibly relaxing more and more.

“I actually can relate to that. What drawing has been to you, books have been to me. All my life they were my constante.”, Hermione exclaimed.

After that exchange, the two women fell back into a comfortable silence and enjoyed the early morning together. That was, until it was time for breakfast.

When Mione inquired if Pansy wanted to go to the Great Hall with her, the other girl hurriedly excused herself and said she had to take her art supplies back to her dorm first and take a shower before the start of their shared Herbology class.

Seeing that this was a valid reason, the auburn-haired witch got up, transfigured the blanket back to a handkerchief and waved the Slytherin goodbye, reassuring her that she could not wait to see the other girl in class.

And this is where they found themselves now: right next to each other at a shared desk in classroom 102. Somehow the new acquaintances had ended up as partners for the big project of the term, that would make up 40% of their grade.

And the task at hand: Creating a new cross-breed between a magical and a non-magical plant of their choosing. Somehow Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that Neville might have known something about this. He probably must have gotten an inside-scoop from Professor Sprout herself. Well, no matter where the information came from, the Gryffindor girl was thankful for the head start she’d gotten.

Trying to start off the conversation, Mione turned to the girl next to her and inquired: “Do you already have any ideas on possible combinations of plants? Or should we maybe each compile a list and then cross check to see what would maybe work?”

“Uhm, I think the lists a-are a good idea.” Pansy answered, sheepishly looking down on the book in front of her.

“Great! Then how about we meet up tomorrow morning again, like we did today, and see what we’ve managed to come up with?”, the woman with the golden-brown eyes suggested.

At this the pale Slyhterin gave a slow nod of confirmation, the only signal that she was accepting the suggestion.

“I honestly can’t wait to spend more time with you, Pansy. And to get to know the real you.”,Hermione said with a soft smile.

This exclamation apparently made the other girl slightly uncomfortable judging by the blush that spread over her pale cheeks again like a dusting of rose.

“It’s true! If I was free in the afternoon, I would have asked you to spend some time together but Headgirl duties are calling today.”

“Th-that’s quite alright, Hermione. I am sure th-these things are more important than me anyway.”, the raven-haired woman said, looking down at her hands.

Covering them with one of her own, the Gryffindor reassuringly stated: “We are friends now, are we not? And nothing is more important than friends, Pansy.”

“Th-that’s true. Friends.”, the amber-eyed woman said. Her voice seemingly laced with a hint of defeat or even sadness? But this went unnoticed by the Golden Girl.

The two women fell into silence to take first notes for their project, until the end of class came around. This was when their ways parted.

Once again, Hermione was so occupied with classes and her duties, that she didn’t have time to spend a single thought on the flowers or her secret admirer.

Entering her dorm room, she actually was slightly disappointed to see there apparently wasn’t another bouquet waiting for her. What was she thinking? She couldn’t really expect to receive flowers every single day, could she?

Deciding to clear her head, she made her way to the Prefects’ Bathroom to take a nice long bubble-bath.

Later that evening, after a nice 2-hour soak that didn’t get her any further in the process of uncovering her secret admirer’s identity, the Gryffindor made her way back to her dorm. Entering through the hole behind the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw, she stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes landed on something that most definitely hadn’t been there when she left. They did it again. This time though, it wasn’t a bouquet waiting for Hermione. Instead she found a potted plant standing on the table in her cozy sitting room.

Crossing the small space with only a few steps, she took the once again accompanying card into her shaking hands. Even though she knew the flower by just looking at it, needed to know the meaning:

_Yellow Pansies - You Occupy My Thoughts_

If there was someone occupying any thoughts, it was the person that had written this. Was it just a coincidence that she received this particular flower on the day she formed a tentative friendship with its namesake? Was she reading too much into this?

“Could it be?” Hermione wondered out loud.

She had to somehow make sure she was right, before approaching this. Even though she could usually trust her gut feeling, she needed to be careful not to wreck this newly formed friendship.

And if it actually did turn out her secret admirer was indeed Pansy Penelope Parkinson, how would Mione feel about this? She really had to sort this out first.

Of course the woman undeniably was a timeless beauty. Her raven hair framing her face didn’t go unnoticed either. What the Headgirl found most adorable and enchanting though, were the Slytherin’s expressions when she was in deep thought. She’d noticed so many small details that Morning under the alder tree:

How the Parkinson heiress would stick out her tongue in the most undignified, yet adorable manner while sketching. Brows furrowed in concentration, the pencil in her pale, soft-looking hand gliding across the page of her sketchbook.

Or how her porcelain cheeks would turn the softest hue of dusty rose, when she received a compliment. And then, of course, that blinding genuine smile, that had made Hermione’s heart skip a beat….

It felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs when realization hit, that she in fact had started to develop feelings for Pansy. What should she do now? And on top of that: What if the secret admirer wasn’t the pure-blooded girl? That would really complicate things.

Hermione decided to take a bit of a Slytherin approach to solving this mystery, and would set her plan in motion the following day.

That night she fell asleep with amber-coloured eyes occupying her mind.

Waking even earlier than usual, the auburn-haired woman made haste to get ready for the day. The night before, she had decided to take a more “passive-aggressive” approach to solving the puzzle regarding the “Mystery Person”. To do that, she had to get downstairs to meet the Parkinson heiress underneath the alder tree.

Walking as fast down the stairs as she could without risking to fall, Hermione made her way outside. Once again the air had the earthy scent to it that she loved, and the calm of the morning hours was present all round.

Just like the day before, Pansy was sitting underneath the tree, sketching out something that seemed to have caught her eye. As if sensing her presence, amber eyes looked up from the sketchbook and found the Gryffindor’s.

“Good Morning, Pansy.”, Hermione greeted the other girl with a smile, before sitting down right next to her, on the Slytherin’s blanket. This was step one of her “passive-aggressive” plan.

Being in such close proximity obviously seemed to affect the other girl, if the sudden coughing fit was any indication.

“G-good Morning, Hermione.”, said the raven-haired witch, who seemed to be taken aback by the fact that the Head Girl’s legs were brushing up against hers.

Knowing exactly what was going on, Mione pretended to be non the wiser and kept the conversation going:

“Did you sleep well? I sure did. Though I have to say that I was rather sad we didn’t have the chance to talk after Herbology yesterday. Oh, speaking of: did you have time to compile a list of flowers for our project?”

“Uhm y-yeah. I left it at my dorm though, I am sorry, Hermione.”, Pansy replied, her usually pale cheeks darkening by the second.

“Oh, that is fine. I have to admit that I myself don’t really have a list, as I was hoping we could maybe use my personal favorite flower for the project? I just love lilies so much. They never fail to bring me joy to an extent that no other flower has managed yet.”

“Is that s-so? I am sure we can w-work with that somehow.”, the Slytherin said in an attempt to stay focused.

“Really? That would be amazing. Thank you so much, Pansy. I truly appreciate it.”, Hermione said, while laying one of her hands on the pale knee of the amber-eyed witch.

To anyone watching, this might have looked like a natural gesture. But it also was part of Mione’s plan. Trying to keep the other woman from having a heart attack or something along those lines, she scooted a bit away to get some space between them, apologizing for being so close in the first place.

“N-no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” came the hurried reply.

“Just pretend I am not here, alright? I just want to keep you company while you draw, if that is okay.”

A single nod let Hermione know that it was in fact alright with her pale companion. This is how the two of them once again fell into a comfortable silence. Even though it seemingly took the pure-blooded witch a few minutes to completely relax for good.

Listening to the nature surrounding them, the Golden Girl realized that she felt the most at peace she had in a long time. It made her hope and wish that the witch to her left indeed was the person sending her the thoughtful flowers.

Time seemed to fly by and it soon was time to part ways: Her going to the Great Hall for breakfast, and Pansy leaving for her dorm to store her art supplies again.

A sense of sadness overcame the Head Girl, as she realized that she and her, for the better word of it, crush wouldn’t share any classes today. Over the course of the day, that sadness started to turn into anticipation and anxiety.

After finishing her afternoon studies in the library, the Gryffindor rushed to her dorm to see if there were any flowers at all waiting for. And if so, which would it be?

Giving Rowena Ravenclaw the password to gain entrance, the muggleborn witch all but jumped through the portrait hole, just to stop dead in her tracks in the middle of her small sitting room.

Waiting for her was a beautiful bouquet of tiger lilies. Releasing a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, Hermione had to compose herself for a second, before taking small steps towards the table the flowers were on.

A small gasp of surprise left her lips when she saw that not only was the expected card at the base of the vase, but also a sealed letter.

Deciding to read the card with the familiar curved script first, she found the following words:

_Tiger Lilies - I Dare You To Love Me_

Being overwhelmed by the joy she was feeling, Mione almost forgot the letter she had yet to read. Opening the seal, she was surprised to be met with the familiar scent of peonies: Pansy’s perfume.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I have been fighting with myself for the longest time, almost all my life to be exact. When I first realized that my attraction to witches ran deeper than my feelings for wizards ever could, I tried to suppress it and to overcompensate by being with as many men as possible at the time._

_As if that personal confusion wasn’t enough, in came my family's expectations to not only find a suitable match within the ranks of the Sacred 28, but to hate on anyone that wasn’t of pure blood like us._

_Wearing this mask of hate, prejudice and violence made me loathe myself. But what else was I supposed to do? How could I, Pansy Penelope Parkinson, sole heiress of the house of Parkinson be anyone else than the perfect, prim and proper princess I was expected to be?_

_That was when I decided to just seal my heart, feelings and desires away. Noone ever was to find out that I longed to be a friend, and maybe even more to the ‘Brightest Witch of our Age’. Yes, I have had feelings for you ever since witnessing how you excelled in everything you set your mind on._

_Seeing you walk down the stairs to the Great Hall in your periwinkle dress robes the eve of the Yule Ball in our fourth year almost knocked the air out of my lungs. Do you have any idea how breathtakingly beautiful you were?... You are._

_Then seeing you almost give up part of yourself for that idiot of a Weasley made me furious. But what was I supposed to do? Who was I to tell you who to love and hate, right?  
Wearing that mask almost all of my life, the only way to be free and express myself was through drawing and also through floriography - the language of flowers._

_My mask, which was more of a whole different persona, might make it hard to believe, but I have always been rather shy.  
Up until the end of the war, only my closest friends have seen glimpses of this side of me.  
But this is who I really am: shy, awkward, flower-loving Pansy._

_Never have I thought I would ever be able to put myself out there and make you aware of my feelings. But today, when we were sitting under the alder tree, something about you was different. It was almost as if you were trying to encourage me._

_And this hope in me is what makes me write all of this down for you. I know I certainly would have a really hard time explaining all of this in person._

_Should I have misread anything, then I deeply apologze and I would understand that you would feel too awkward to stay friends.  
If you do in fact harbor any sort of romantic feelings towards me, then meet me under our tree tomorrow morning. Same time as the past two days._

_Yours,  
Pansy  
_

Hermione felt as if her heart would burst at any second and she could embrace the whole world. It’s been quite some time since she’d felt this particular sort of warmth in her chest.

This was somehow too good to be true. She had to literally pinch herself to make sure all of it actually was real. When she felt the pain of the pinch though, was when realization really hit her.

Pansy was her secret admirer. She had had feelings for her for years. And she would be waiting under their tree.

Even though Mione knew that it would be close to impossible to get any sleep at all, she got ready for bed, constantly telling herself that ‘the earlier she’d sleep, the faster morning would come’.

She didn’t know how long it had actually taken her to fall asleep, but when she awoke the next morning, a smile on her lips was the only remnant of the sweetest dreams involving a certain raven-haired woman.

Hastily brushing her hair and getting dressed, the Head Girl hurried to get to the witch waiting for her downstairs.

“One more thing.”, she mumbled to herself, remembering what she had planned for this possible outcome of events.

Swinging her vine wand in a circular motion, the auburn-haired witch conjured a bouquet of flowers. Even though she had a feeling Pansy would know the meaning of them, Hermione still decided to attach a card of her own.

_Peach Blossoms - My Heart Is Your  
Ambrosia - I Feel The Same Way_

Holding onto the flowers, the giddiness from the night before surprisingly seemed to have vanished. Feeling at ease, the Gryffindor took a step out of the portrait hole, and with it accepted the dare from the night before. The dare to love.


End file.
